


Aanraking en Gaan (touch and go)

by angelboygabriel



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Banter, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Oral Sex, Zaterdag 09:41, fem!milan, fem!robbe, fem!sander, fluff & smut, re: the morning after scene but make it wlw, rosander but lesbians, scene continuation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21690469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelboygabriel/pseuds/angelboygabriel
Summary: “Fuck off, Aleksandra,” Robbe says, and Sander just laughs and kisses her cheek.“I’d rather fuck you,” she replies cheekily, earning a punch on the shoulder from Robbe.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans, Zoë Loockx/Senne De Smet
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69
Collections: Skam Belgium (Wtfock) ▶ Sander Driesen / Robbe Ijzermans





	Aanraking en Gaan (touch and go)

**Author's Note:**

> wlw skam fans i salute you we suffer a critical low amount of content... thank you lesbian noora for fighting for our rights
> 
> Featuring Robbyn “Robbe” IJzermans, Aleksandra “Sander” Driesen, and lesbian mom Mila Hendrickx for a less confusing reading experience <3

When Robbe had woken up, she was alone.

How could she have been so stupid as to actually trust her again?

Robbe just wanted to bang her head on the wall and scream _Robbyn IJzermans_ , _you are a fucking idiot!_

She was still naked from last night, so Robbyn grappled around until she felt a tee and underwear she could yank on. The bed was cold as she got up with humiliation and shuffled towards the kitchen on the off chance Sander might be there, or even just coffee. She would take either. She wanted both.

Instead, Senne and Mila were there, talking quietly. Mila watched her with the careful expression of a mother gauging where she stood with her child, and Senne simply looked tired.

“Are you looking for something?” Mila asked, her hair slung low in a sloppy bun that Senne would poke at like some sort of cat.

“Have you seen Sander?” Robbe replied, and Mila perked up at that.

“Sander... as in, Aleksandra? Are you guys back together?” Mila questioned hopefully.

Senne leaned forward with a suspicious look.

“Um, what?”

“Sander is her girlfriend,” Mila replied with pride. Senne gave Robbe an incredulous glance, as if to say _why didn’t you tell me first?_

“Hey, I told you. Okay, I didn’t tell you, but I never ruled it out.” Mila aimed to Robbe, and she sighed shakily.

“She’s gone, Mila. She didn’t send a text, didn’t leave anything. She’s gone,” Robbe responded. 

Robbe felt drained. Sander breathed so much life into her, only to sap her lower than she’d been before whenever she was gone. It hurt so much.

“Maybe there’s a super logical explanation that she had to go or something...” Mila mused, and Robbe just shook her head.

Zöe strode into the kitchen from behind her, looking just as tired as Robbe felt. “Um, I’ve decided to go and testify after all,” she said, with only a sidelong glance to Senne.

“Really?” Mila exclaimed.

Zöe opened the fridge.

“I’ve thought about it for a long time, but I just know that I have to do it. So yeah,” Zöe added with a sigh. Senne carefully made his way towards her and kissed her cheek.

“I’m doing this for myself, Senne. Not for you. Okay?” she snapped, but didn’t push him away.

Robbe slumped against the table.

“Okay,” Senne said simply, and cupped Zöe’s face in his hands. Robbe couldn’t bear to look.

“Alright, carry on, I’m going shopping,” Zöe then announced as she walked out, and Robbe swallowed around the lump in her throat.

“Senne, could you send me message?” Robbe asked shyly.

“Yeah, why?”

“Maybe Facebook Messenger is just down.”

Robbe’s phone pinged. 

_Don’t stress so much!_

“Right?” Senne says out loud, and sometimes he’s so much like a brother to her it hurts. She almost nods, but then a mop of bleach-blonde hair pokes around the corner.

“Fresh croissants!” Sander cheers proudly as she walks in, and Robbe feels that familiar full feeling pour into her. Sander makes her feel like she’s a brimming glass of water in a desert, like she’s a slowly erupting volcano, like she’s been filled with so much emotion that she can’t keep it all in her body. Sander... makes her _feel._

Robbe can’t help it as she steps forward, helpless to fall into her embrace.

“You...” she breathes, before their lips are on each other and Robbe is home. It’s too much of a kiss for this hour of the day and just pastries, and she can taste the delighted confusion in Sander’s mouth before she pulls away.

“I know that they taste good, but...” Sander trails off before Mila snatches the pastry bag from her hands and gives it a sniff.

Mila smirks at Robbyn, looking more petite than usual in Sander’s arms. “Oh, delicious! Your girlfriend has taste, alright,” she snickers, and Robbe is too happy to do anything but smile as she quickly steals the bag back and turns out the kitchen.

Senne and Mila’s eyebrows raise as she grabs Sander’s jacket and pulls her out of the kitchen.

“Come,” she says confidently, and doesn’t even have to look behind her to see the mischievous look in Sander’s eye.

* * *

The door to Robbe’s room clicks shut as Sander walks backwards towards the bed and sits down.

“For a moment I thought that you...” Robbe breathed.

“Really?”

Robbe slides onto her lap, and Sander’s hands rest reassuringly on her hips.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Sander says with a smile.

“And Britt?”

“Britt who?”

Robbe frowns down at her. “Come on, Sander. I’m serious.”

“That’s over, okay? One hundred percent,” Sander promises.

“That’s what you said the last time too,” Robbe shoots back, and Sander looks a little hurt, before she softens. Robbe kind of hates the way she always gets lost in her eyes, like some kind of cliché. 

“I mean it,” Sander replies earnestly. “Honest truth.”

Their faces starts to draw closer, as if magnetized by some kind of cosmic magnet.

“From now on, it’s just the two of us,” Sander says, and it’s all Robbe ever wanted to hear. When the kiss reaches her, she lets it land before she ducks down into it more. Sander’s tongue pokes out teasingly and she smiles against Robbe’s lips.

Then Sander’s grip goes suddenly tight and hard on her waist, and Robbe’s breath is punched out of her as she finds herself flat on her back, Sander leaning over her. Robbe’s mouth parts slightly and she pushes up into Sander as she places a lingering kiss.

“I’m holding onto you,” she murmurs before kissing Robbe again.

“And I’m never letting go of you.”

Robbe exhales an embarrassing sound and her eyes slip shut as Sander kisses her hard, no teasing before she tilts her head down and starts to kiss down Robbe’s neck.

She gasps, phone and bag falling limply from her hand, when Sander begins to snake a hand up her shirt. Robbe’s leg bends up and squeezes her side, before Sander’s hand is sliding higher and traces the outline of her breast.

“Fuck,” Robbe murmurs before she buries one of her hands in the silky, white locks of Sander’s hair. Her other hand grabs Sander’s shoulder tightly, and she spreads her legs as Sander can lay more fully on top of her.

“Can’t keep my hands to myself when I’m around you... Robbe, Robbyn, you’re such a pretty little bird...” Sander sings against her skin, and Robbe is truly embarrassed by how much of an effect her words have. It’s fucking _cheesy_ , but they’re grinding against each other now and Sander is leaning back to shrug off her jacket and Robbe can’t find it in her to care.

Sander leans back on her legs as she smirks down at Robbe, and Robbe smiles coyly back before grabbing the hem of her shirt and slowly pulling it up. Sander’s sharp intake of breath as she shows more skin sends a frisson of want down her spine. She yanks the shirt over her head and finally takes in Sander’s awed look as she gazes down at her.

“Fuck... you’re so fucking beautiful,” she breathes, and Robbe sits up so they’re chest to chest, hers bare and Sander’s clothed. They wrap their arms around each other, and Sander’s hair swings into their faces as she catches Robbe in another dirty kiss.

Robbe’s hands drop from around her ribs to pull at her shirt, and Sander quickly gets it off and throws it carelessly across the room, leaving her in jeans and a black bra. Robbe fumbles with the clasp and they both start laughing, but then she finally unhooks it and they go serious as the straps slide down Sander’s arms.

She looks wild and painfully beautiful like this, her top half bare and her breasts just barely covered by the snow-white drape of her hair. Robbe’s hair is too short to do any over-the-shoulder cascading of that kind, so all she can do is hope she might look even half as breathtaking as Sander does. She looks like some kind of fucking winter goddess.

“I hope you’re not still tired from last night,” Robbe says with a wicked smile, fingers going to the button of Sander’s jeans.

Sander pushes her back down so she can shimmy out of her pants, leaving them both in just their underwear.

“Oh, please. You think five rounds ten _hours_ ago is enough to tire me out? That’s nothing, _Robbyn_ ,” she responds before lowering herself back on top of Robbe, hair falling in a curtain around them.

“Better prove you can keep up, _Aleksandra_ ,” she challenges, and Sander chuckles in a low way that signals to Robbe that she’s in for it. She lays a wet kiss above Robbe’s heart and starts to go down, giving particular attention to Robbe’s nipples as she goes. Robbe starts to breathe faster as Sander reaches her stomach, and she feels herself tense.

“Relax,” Sander purrs with a smile before she pulls Robbe’s legs apart wider and places a biting kiss to the inside of her thigh. Sander’s breath ghosts over where Robbe wants it most, and she tries to cant her hips up so Sander will _do_ something about the hot and incessant feeling between her legs, but Sander just pushes her hips back down and begins to trace the hem of her underwear with a finger. Robbe is gonna slap her if she tries to say something smart-assy.

Sander stays silent, however, and dips her finger under the cloth, moving it torturously slow. She finally reaches where Robbe’s been dying to be touched, but then she stops.

“Fucking touch me!” she snaps in frustration, and Sander withdraws her hand that had done absolutely nothing.

“If you say so,” she responds, and before Robbe can even react, her underwear is being dragged off and Sander’s mouth replaces where her fingers had been.

“Fuck- fuck-!” Robbe half screams and slams a hand over her mouth as Sander starts to lick across her entrance and clit, before she starts moving her mouth like she’s making out with Robbe. Robbe is way too tightly wired already to last very long, and her thighs squeeze Sander’s head to the point that she has to pry them further apart. She’s just as relentless and focused as last night, as if she had already memorized the ins and out of Robbe’s body, and that thought alone is enough to send her teetering dangerously close to the edge.

Sander doesn’t hold anything back, and soon Robbe feels two fingers slide into her while Sander keeps eating her out like she’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. Robbe moans helplessly and grabs a tight handful of Sander’s hair, guiding her motions. Then she does this _thing_ with tongue and that’s it, the wire in Robbe has snapped so hard that she lurches up, hands twisted in Sander’s hair and the bedsheets, a broken sound freeing itself from her mouth.

Her clit fucking _hurts_ from coming like that and she pushes Sander off of her so they can both breathe.

“So I’m the one who’s supposed to struggle to keep up, huh?” Sander asks with a shit-eating grin, and she slowly licks off her fingers without breaking eye contact with Robbe. Robbe groans and hides her face in the pillow. Too much hot for her to handle, but Sander’ll never know that.

“Fuck off, Aleksandra,” Robbe says, and Sander just laughs and kisses her cheek.

“I’d rather fuck you,” she replies cheekily, earning a punch on the shoulder from Robbe, who blushes and tries to ignore that statement.

“Give me my goddamn croissants,” Robbe demands instead, and Sander happily obliges.

The sun filters in bright from the window, illuminating Robbe’s halo of brown hair and her splotch of freckles.

Sander knows she made the right choice.


End file.
